The PM's holiday wardrobe continues to make headlines

Don’t worry, Sam, it’s a breeze. I won’t be trying to stuff my fists into the pockets of a pair of jeans, like Blair on a sleepover with Bush. No one calls me Camp David. Ha, ha. Look, seriously, darling, don’t worry. It’s you the cameras care about. Just chillax. My black shoes are locked away with the “If something happens” outfit. Remember the photos at the Portuguese market last month? You, me and the squid. The squid wore a loose-fitting plastic bag. The press loved it. But instead of the short-sleeved shirt, I’m going back to the navy polo-shirt. Why shuffle the Cabinet if you feel comfortable with the old favourites? It’s so me. Navy-blue-skies thinking. And blue takes off pounds – not that I need worry just at the moment. For heaven’s sake, it’s only Cornwall. Of course I can wear flip-flops – it’s not a policy statement. Ready? Just once for the cameras, then back to the crazy golf.